ME2: Needless
by taviastrife
Summary: After the elimination of the Collector base, Shepard contemplates the effects of the Lazarus Project and the simpler things in life.


Shepard eased her body into the leather chair in front of her desk, trying to make as little noise as possible in her silent quarters. She didn't have the heart to wake the Turian slumbering under the covers of her bed. Just because she couldn't sleep didn't mean he had to be disturbed. They had gotten together for the past few nights in a row now. A small smile formed on her face as she recalled how Garrus had embraced her tightly after the elimination of the Collector base. She had nearly fallen to her death at that base, but he had saved her life by pulling her up into the Normandy at the last minute. The Commander shook her head to get her thoughts away from the feeling she had had at that time—the feeling of almost losing it all once again.

She focused her eyes on Garrus' still figure. In both of her lifetimes, she had never met anyone quite like that particular alien. He had been through hell more than once in his life, and he was tough as nails because of it. Surviving a missile to the side was proof enough of that. However, he still managed to be clumsy with things pertaining to romance. Lightly covering her mouth with her fingers, she nearly laughed aloud at the remembrance of his choice of music for their first romantic evening together.

Shepard listened to his calm breathing as she tightened the knot closing her black robe. She had to admit that she was thankful that the Turian didn't snore. Her mind was suddenly stricken with curiosity about if Turians were even able to. It was possible Mordin would know. He had definitely helped her in more ways than one since the onset of their relationship. Of course, it had been extremely awkward listening to his "sex education" talks. It had felt as if she'd been attending high school all over again.

As her mind began to lull in its fantasy-making, she suddenly recalled why she had gotten up. That odd, uncomfortable feeling slowly returned to her. She turned her chair to face the desk, waving her hand in front of the small sensor, triggering the light switch for the lamp. The lamp was the only light source in the room at the moment aside from the blue glowing fish tank, which lined the opposite wall. Rifling through the mess on top of the counter, she eventually pulled a datapad from under a stack of papers. The motion detector made it flare to life, and with a few presses of her fingers, she navigated her way to a short medical report.

It contained the information about the Lazarus Project which had rebuilt her. Being curious about exactly what had gone into her, she had inquired to Miranda, who had supplied the report without hesitation. Apparently the Cerberus Operative had come to realize that her loyalty to the Illusive Man had been misplaced.

Shepard scrolled through the data, merely glancing over the details regarding her scarring. She skipped over the information about her facial reconstruction. The numerous procedures it had taken for her body to properly accept metal and synthetic material, especially in the case of the spine, surprised the Commander. No wonder it had taken two years for them to finish her. She wryly smirked at the fact that she was more tech than organic. Who was she like now? T2 or T3? Or, maybe T4 was more fitting?

As she neared the end of the report, her eyes halted upon the one word that had originally awakened her. Her body slightly tensed, and she remained motionless as she stared down at the word. It seemed as if it had been tossed in as an afterthought, which had been how Shepard had regarded it until now. She heaved a sigh and leaned back in her chair, wondering why her thoughts tonight had carried her back to this. Ever since Garrus and she had gotten together, this strange feeling had slowly crept up from behind her.

Holding the datapad above her head to gaze at, Shepard rested her neck on the chair's headrest. Considering that they were both from entirely different species, and the fact that they had the potential of killing each other from certain types of contact, they wouldn't be able to do anything about it anyway. It was a silly, inappropriate, and needless thing to be thinking of with a looming war waiting at the galaxy's doorstep. She had the Reapers to eventually contend with. This was the last thing she should be concerned about.

But, what about after the war…?

A scowl appeared on her face. The peaceful future wasn't around the corner, and in all honesty, she was unsure if the Reapers would be stopped even with her help. She shook her head on the stupidity of the question. She had the habit of thinking too far ahead. It came with command.

"Enora…?" a voice faintly asked from behind her.

Hearing her first name spoken aloud nearly made her jump in her seat. People rarely ever addressed her as such anymore. Very few people knew her first name to begin with. Smirking, Shepard twisted her head to the side to see Garrus sitting upright. She locked gazes with him, peering directly into his blue orbs. She could see the complexity behind them—the pain he had experienced in his life. His appreciation of her showed as well. They had been through a lot together.

"Something wrong?"

She blinked to break away from her thoughtful trance before responding with a shake of her head. She lazily tossed the datapad atop the desk and stood from the chair, stretching her arms high above her head. There was no point in bringing up the subject with him for she was going to attempt to forget it at any rate. "It's nothing."

"Are you sur-" his voice drifted off as he watched Shepard make her way to the edge of the bed, untying her robe, and slowly crawling on all fours across the white sheets. Brushing her lips lightly above his nose, she snuggled her forehead up against his with a broad smile on her face. Garrus let out a noise almost sounding as a low growl coming from within his throat. His mandibles twitched with pleasure as he drew her close, wrapping his arms about her slim waist so that her body was touching his.

They settled beside one another. Shepard draped her left leg over his, pushing closer against him, enjoying his warmth that was seeping into her. She situated her face in the crook of the Turian's neck, allowing the constant calming rumble of the Normandy's engines to fill her ears. She synched her breathing with Garrus' and gradually shut her emerald eyes, yearning to thrust aside the disconcerting element that had been on the datapad.

_Sterile._


End file.
